


Drunken Dreams

by palishere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Drunk Dean, Drunken Shenanigans, Forced, Handcuffs, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palishere/pseuds/palishere
Summary: Dean comes back to the hotel after the latest hook up went South... But he has an itch and he's gonna scratch it one way or the other...
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: SPN J2 Xmas Exchange





	Drunken Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deeranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeranger/gifts).



> This fic was written as a gift for Deeranger on the J2 Xmas Secret Santa on LiveJournal.
> 
> I hope it's okay ^^; It is a little rushed.

The motel door slams shut, the volume of the wooden frame snaps through the air and forces Sam into consciousness. He intakes a large, shaky breath of air through his nose and lets the oxygen expand his lungs before he slowly exhales. The sound of heavy boots stomping around in the dark surrounds him and Sam knows that sound. He knows the weight of those boots and the low murmurs about the latest hookup that clearly hadn’t worked out in his brothers favour.

The eldest Winchester is making a hell of a lot of noise and Sam grumbles to himself. _‘Why can’t Dean just keep it down and be at least a little considerate of the other people here?’_. Dean kicks his boots off and his keys land loudly against the laminate surface of the coffee table. 

Finally the sound of worn springs in the mattress beside him shriek and if they could talk they’d say; _‘He’s gone to bed.’_ Sam’s heart is still hammering in his chest as Sam buries his head into the single pillow and tries some more breathing exercises. In through his nose, filling his lungs and slow exhale through his mouth. _‘He’s gone to bed.’_ Dean is home now and finally falling asleep.

Sam’s eyes are heavy and even though he has a few tight knots in his shoulder he ignores the resting pain there and takes in another slow breath. His heart is at a slower rate now and he can softly feel the dream world pulling him under.

Until Dean makes a sound.

Not just any sound, no. It’s a grunt that rips the taller man from his prospect of sleep. _‘Surely…. Not.’_ Sam questions but the sound of a zipper getting tugged down forces Sam to roll over, because like hell is that happening tonight.

His big, drunk brother is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless. The moonlight flooding in and Sam just makes out Dean’s left hand tweaking a nipple while his right hand disappears into the opening of his dirt covered jeans.

“The Fuck!?” Sam snaps loudly, his hand gripping into his pillow and he tosses the soft cushion, striking Dean in the torso with a soft thud. “Dude, what the hell’s wrong with you! Couldn’t you do that in the car!?”

“Shut up, I bet you did it, didn’t ya Sammy?” Dean mumbles, his hand not retracting.

“What’s wrong with you…?” Sam repeats, the idea that Dean would be drunkenly okay with rubbing one out right next to him grossing him out, “Go to bed” He growls. 

“I asked you a question.” His voice is low and there’s a lace of arousal in Dean’s voice that Sam doesn’t care to think about, it’s frightening and if that’s how he’s been talking to women than it’s no wonder the older man hasn’t had the chance to get laid in a while. 

“You’re fucking drunk... Go. To bed.” Sam growls as he rolls back over, face smothered into the mattress. The olive green blankets with faded yellow stitches are barely covering him and his thoughts stream to what a pathetic mess Dean’s been more recently. _’He just needs a win.. I’ll find us a run of the mill job..’_

Dean is on his feet again, dragging himself to the other side of the room. A slight ruffling sound tells Sam that his pain in the ass big brother is at his duffle bag.

“Seriously, go to bed.” He moans into the sheets with a fed up tone. his right arm moves up and under his head so he’s more comfortable, chucking his pillow probably wasn’t the most mature move, but if he gets on his feet now he’ll never fall back to sleep. And while sleep hasn’t been that rare in their lives in the past week, Sam certainly appreciates the extra hours they’ve been getting.

Dean’s gone quiet for the first time since he stumbled back inside and for that Sam is thankful, he intakes a deep sigh and is close to living out his nightmares in the dream world. Dean bumps clumsily against the bed frame but Sam focuses on sleep, Sam ignores a lot of things that Dean does; speeding, driving under the influence, beer bottles that occasionally pile up, crumbs in between the keys of his laptop, the porno magazines that Dean wastes money on.

However, when Sam feels the mattress sinking beside his hip, that is something he cannot ignore. He squeezes his eyes tight in anger, grumbling and before Sam can raise his head and ask Dean what the fuck he thinks he’s doing Dean’s hand strikes like a python and grips tight at the back of Sam’s neck, forcing his face down.

Within no time at all, Dean is sitting over Sam’s hips with one hand holding Sam’s lower back and the other nestled into a tight fit around the back of Sam’s neck, pushing his nose into the mattress.

Sam struggles to get his limbs to respond quick enough because it’s Dean, it’s his big brother. He’s known Dean his whole life, trusts him. This is the guy that helps patch his wounds. “Deaa- mmph!” Sam grunts against the mattress and tries to twist his body to knock Dean’s ass to the floor. His right arm is pinned under his chin and his nose is starting to feel the pressure of Dean’s weight.

Sam’s brain finally shifts into survival mode and he balls his left hand into a fist and tries to swing it at his brother but, apparently Dean isn’t that drunk and after a second attempt to buck Dean off of him, Dean pins his other arm to his back.

He wants to be impressed by the way his jaw is forced shut, forcing his right arm imobile under him, wants to applaud his brother for managing to pin him so damn well given his intoxication, but a drunk Dean is an unpredictable thing at best. A drunk and aroused Dean is downright frightening.

"Dean?" Sam shouts his brothers name, though his voice is muffled. 

It's much too late to reason with him, Sam is reduced to twitches and light bucking, being unable to get his legs under him, Dean’s knee holds Sam’s left hand while the first clasp of the steel, cold handcuffs locks into place under his other hand. 

“Dean!?”

It takes no time nor effort at all to lift and force his other hand to the headboard, locking the other limb in place around the hard bars of the hotel bed. Sam fails to fight him, fails to pull his hand away and before long the young hunter is trapped like an angel surrounded by burning holy oil.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing!?" With his arms no longer pinned he starts to thrash between the bed and his brother, His fingers are quick to his sleeves seeking out pins simultaneously he throws his head back trying to catch Dean’s nose in hopes to knock him back. No such luck.

"Get off- ughh!" 

Dean’s hand grips roughly in his baby brothers hair and loose strands being torn from his scalp has the young hunter trying to follow Dean’s movements instead of working against him as his nose is forced back into the mattress. He sucks back some dust and pointlessly tries to reason with his brother, even though it seems Dean has sudden hearing loss and completely ignores his muffled pleas. Sam struggles for breath as the blunt side of a knife meets one of his wrists and Dean yanks his shirt sleeve. The tell tale _riiittchh_ of a knife slicing through the fabrics fills Sam’s ears as his pins are taken from him, leaving a vulnerable place to grow in the pit of his stomach, his only hope is that maybe Dean can be reasoned with. 

His brothers weight lifts off of him and Sam is quick to figure out that his wrists won't slip through the cuffs. So he aims for the next best thing and flips himself onto his back, preparing to kick his brother into unconsciousness. The chains twist and Sam feels like he's at the end of his tether as the steel cuffs start to pinch hard at his skin. Little white stars explode into his vision when he looks around to find his new kicking bag.

"Dean, uncuff me! This isn't fucking funny…" He spots the darkened silhouette of Dean standing by the end of the bed. "What the hell's wrong with you!" He hisses, bending one leg and preparing to land the ball of his foot in Dean's nose.

Sam's foot lashes out, but even as drunk as Dean is, he foresees the attack and works quickly to grab the limb and attach an ankle cuff to it.

“Stop it!-”

"Can't untie you if you're gonna act like a brat. Sammy." Dean yanks the leg to the far corner of the bed and for a small moment in between bucking Sam’s a little greatful that Dean didn’t twist him painfully in the wrong direction. He kicks out again as his body is roughly forced back onto its front and his free leg misses miserably as Dean locks the first to the corner of the bed frame. He does much of the same to Sam’s other leg with little to no problem and before long it starts to dawn over Sam just how much trouble he is in.

“Dean-” Sam snaps, “What the hells come over you!?” 

Dean ignores him, doesn’t give a damn what his chained up little brother has to say. He has an itch that needs scratching, and he’s gonna scratch it.

“Dean! Untie me now!”

Seconds pass by pretty quickly but time seems to slow right down as Dean clumsily puts either leg over Sam’s rioting body and it’s not until Dean’s hand fumbles underneath his little brother’s body and finds Sam’s belt that he even starts to put two and two together. Sam puts his weight down into the mattress trying to crush his brothers hands, to stop him from unbuckling his belt.

“Dea-” Horror and fear cloud him and his mind is short circuiting, _’how can this be happening?’_ He stops his fighting, which is probably the wrong thing to do as it only gives Dean the perfect opportunity to pull the belt through the loops and unbutton his brother’s jeans. The older Winchester struggles to find the zip tab, but once it’s down as far as the zipper allows, Dean’s hand easily slips inside. 

“De- Nnn-Ah! Don’t!” He eventually spits into the mattress below as Dean’s hand roughly finds his soft cock, giving the appendage a few solid grips and a couple of lazy strokes. Sam jolts and tries to kick, grunting into the sheets. Deans thumb moves back and forth over the head of Sam's cock in random directions. His mind growls at him that Dean isn’t going to listen but he can’t let that stop him, he can’t give in.

“S’ok little brother…” Dean slurs as he pulls his hand free, letting it trail up the inside of Sam’s many shirts, “I know what you need, always did.” The shirts bunch over Sam’s shoulder blade and with a rough shove of his arm, Dean has them over one of Sam’s shoulders, then the other. 

“D-Don’t…” Sam hates the quiver in his tone. Hates that his words get caught in his mouth. Hates that Dean still doesn’t listen. His hands have pulled one too many times on the cuffs already, they are starting to feel raw and Sam can feel blood tickling his skin as it eventually draws down his left arm.

The older hunter has inconsistent touches, his hand feathering past four rib bones and then pressing into the middle of Sam’s back as he starts to lean down over his brother. “Dean... G-get Oopmf-” Sam feels Dean push his hips against the curve of his ass and his breath hitches because he knows Dean discarded his gun earlier that evening so the thing poking him can’t be a weapon. Sam’s hands frantically search as far as the handcuffs will allow, but he threw his pillow, his weapons are in the draw beside the bed and the bed frame has no splits of wood sticking out of the steel frame.

“S’ok Sammy…” Dean’s hand pushes at Sam’s hip and eventually his hand moves underneath, ignoring Sam’s crushing weight and finding his still too soft cock while his other hand brushes over Sam's tense shoulders. "S'ok…" He slurs into Sam's ear.

Goosebumps tickle across Sam’s skin as Dean’s words whisp over him in small puffs of air. He grits his teeth and tries not to move his arms, propping himself up on his elbows, but with each movable inch pain zips up his arms. The hot puffs of air ghosting over the skin of his neck and shoulder is soft and unwelcomed.

"Dea- Keys. Give me the keys…" Sam chokes back the will to cry. He can feel Dean rutting behind him, his brothers hand is warming his uninterested dick and Sam blindly thinks that there's no way that's happening. None. 

Dean's thumbs sticks into Sam's neck like a vice, bordering on painful and Sam swears his skin is going to split until the tight hold. He finally shouts out in pain as one of his elbows buckles and his head is being pressed into the bed once more. Dean shuffles above him, leaning down over him and finally pushes his lips to Sam's shoulder.

Sam makes a strangled gasp sound. "Don't!" But it's a little too late, Dean's teeth are already grazing the tanned skin and Sam hates the way he can feel Dean's fingers forcing his cock to perk.

"Uh- Sammy." Dean moans and Sam can feel the words whispering past the shell of his ear as Dean shuffles a little higher "Shh… It's okay…"

"It's not." The younger hunter croaks.

He gets a mouthful of bedding for his troubles as Dean sinks his teeth into his shoulder again. The younger Winchester's throat clamps up, stifling a moan as the pain and pleasure swirl into one thoughtless emotion. 

"You like that, don'cha?" His teeth aim a little lower this time, just on the shoulder blade and rips a throaty moan from Sam. It's barely audible with Sam's mouth finding the sheeting below, biting down hard as Dean's hand lazily tugs his foreskin up and down over the now solid shaft.

The occasional press of Dean's hardness reminds Sam that this isn't going to be over anytime soon. On the sixth bite Sam's head flies back, almost knocking Dean in the nose and he shouts out his need, moaning into the night air and forgetting to beg Dean to stop.

A little startled, Dean pulls his hand away and pulls himself up on his knees, watching and listening to his panting little brother. His fingertips poking into the band of Sam's jeans as he ceremoniously and smoothly slides them over the fine curve of Sam's ass.

Sam doesn't protest, not really. He grunts out in disapproval and his says 'no, Dean don't' but his words are much shakier and a little empty. 

Dean's tongue pokes out for a second as he takes in the sight of his baby brother's tired and defeated form. "Like it to hurt, don'cha Sammy?"

It's a lose/lose question. if he says 'yes' Dean will just be rougher, make it hurt. But, if he says 'no' Dean will just be gentle with him and in some ways that will hurt more.

"S-Stop." Sam whimpers, he lifts his hips occasionally to get the pressure off his throbbing cock, he doesn't think too much off it, but to Dean, he just looks like he's offering himself, pushing his ass up for his brother to take him.

And that's exactly what he plans to do.

A rough hand kneads Sam's ass and a choked cry gets caught in the younger man's throat as his cheeks are pulled away from one another. He can't bare the dreaded thought that Dean is following through, that this is happening and it's Winchester blood that's going to violate him. 

Sam sobs quietly into the bed wishing for his vocals to cooperate, he wants to beg his brother to stop this, to sleep it off but all of the words are flooding him in one big mess.

“Nice and hot for me Sam, Gonna feel so good…” Dean says sounding tired but Sam can’t focus on that because he feels something wet and cold slip down past his anus and over his vulnerable testicles.

A finger mixes the cold fluid around his heated entrance and Sam yelps when he feels the pressure against his hole.

“First knuckle already? You done this befor-” Dean asks before trailing off into a hiccup, he squirts a little more lube over Sam’s ass and softly fucks Sam with his finger.

Sam’s throat tightens to hold back another growing sob, Dean pushes in too far and Sam tries to pull his legs up, to push away from Dean, but the ankle cuffs do their job and hold Sam down, he clenches his muscles but, he doesn't feel like that really helps either.

“Hey, Oi- Relax," Dean grumbles before pulling the finger out.

Sam's legs shake and the younger hunter gasps quietly when Dean's finger is torn from him, leaving him feeling strangely empty. The bed is vibrating and Sam slowly realises that Dean must be tugging at his own erection. He tries to look over his shoulder but Dean’s palm strikes his ass and has Sam pushing his head back into the wet spot on the mattress, where drool has started a small collection.

***Smack***

“I said relax that hole!” Dean growls and Sam gasps loudly into the motel room. Dean shuffles between his baby brothers spread legs with a grunt and leans down on one hand as his other slides his solid shaft through the lube between Sam’s ass cheeks. 

Dean slides up and down over Sam’s crack, his solid cock brushing up against his brother’s tailbone, but it’s when Dean brushes Sam’s hair to the side and softly rubs his little brothers shoulder, that's when Sam accidentally moans.

“Dea- Don’t… Please don’t-” Sam can feel the tears tickling his face as they drip to another part of the mattress.. Adrenaline, denial, fear and part arousal mix themselves together in the cauldron of Sam’s head forcing his brain signals to short out. 

"You're drunk! You're not thinking! Please!" Dean shuffles his hips between his brothers legs and closer to Sam's winning ass then using one hand Dean pulls one cheek away from the other to reveal Sam's pucker. "Dean! Please, Don't!" He continues to ignore Sam’s whimpers. 

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’cha?”

Deans thick cock slides up and over Sam's clenching hole, the space is wet with lubricant. His legs clench and pull on the chains but with Dean between his legs he’s got no way to keep his older brother out. Dean pushes his thick erection over Sam’s hole and warns Sam to relax his muscles before he starts to press in.

"DEAN! NO! NO! NNGH-" Dean puts his other hand on Sam's head, forcing him back into the mattress.

"Shut up…" Dean moves his hips and Sam's screams are being smothered by the thick green bedding below, his legs kick futilely and the chains rattle, keeping Sam's legs spread. His hands yanking hard and painfully against the headboard, his palms are spread out trying to find some sort of grace to hold himself. "Nearly there-"

Sam screams out a muffled sound again and bites down far too hard on his lip, splitting it and tasting copper, which he quickly spits and tries to gather more bedding. A small jerk from Dean and extended pain tells him Dean's cock head has breached him and the young hunter tries to focus his attention on breathing. On just breathing. Loud, breaths of vocalistic grunts.

"There we go… Wasn't S' hard, was it?" Dean moans leaning down on an elbow his lets his tongue flick over the top of Sam's spine. "Feels good, Sammy…"

His wrists need medical attention, his ankles are starting to bruise, his breathing is heavy and erratic and damn does Sam's cock ache. However, the splitting pain of having his brother’s cock in his ass with no lube or prep is too overwhelming to consider any of his other issues.

Sam isn't an idiot. He knows this isn't the end, he knows he still needs to ride this out until Dean reaches climax or sobers enough to realise what he's doing.

Dean moans against Sam's neck and whispers the words Sam's been dreading, the words he knew was coming.

"Gonna fuck you now little brother...Ugh- So fucking tight-" He musters as he flutters his hips.

"Nno...Don- Pull out!... Hurts…" Sam turns his head with a gasp and tries not to move when he feels Deans upper body pull away from him, one of Dean's hands resting next to his head and he starts to push in more. "Nnngh!!" Sam's head turns to the bed and bites down as the slow drag of Dean's cock consumes him.

"S'it Sammy… all the way…S' Good..." 

Several long seconds later and the brothers are hip to hip. Sam can feel a pulsing and he can't tell if it's Dean or himself anymore. His bloodied mouth spits the sheets out "Stop! Dean… Pull the fuck ou- mmph!" Dean's left hand rests on the back of Sam's neck, forcing Sam's mouth closed.

Sam's throat tries to release a scream when Dean drags his hips back, fucking him. Very. God. Damn. Slowly.

"Fuck…" Dean moans as he stops, only the head of his cock forcibly inside "Nice 'n slow… Don' wanna break ya…" And just like that Dean pushes back in again ripping shouts and screams and muffled sounds of what would likely be begs and pleas.

Sam's body shakes violently and his older brother is not giving him time to adjust, it's still a slow drag but the time between the in and out has lessened greatly. "S'Ok Sam, I know…" Sam jolts when he feels his brothers other hand reaching for his dick, but he hasn't got the energy to fight it. And privately, he could use a little good feeling to combat the pain.

Sam shouts into the blankets when Dean closes his fist around his cock and thrusts back into him. It doesn't take long for the shouts to become strangled moans as Dean fucks into his baby brother, still slurring out the same dirty talk, reminding Sam how tight he feels, it takes even less time for Dean to tell Sam how close he feels.

“You feel so fuckin’ good.” Dean hisses and speeds up, his hips jerking and stuttering against his brothers while Sam sobs into the bedding, his knuckles turning a shade whiter from gripping at the bed for too long as his brother pushes his body down and up into the mattress. 

“S’Okay Sammy, I know…” Dean hisses again stopping for a small moment, completely buried inside of Sam, “I know..” Dean repositions his arms in line with Sam’s shoulder blades and leans down over his brother continuing to push his waist down.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to fall down onto an elbow as he pulls back out. Slowly.

“Dea- Stop.” Sam chokes but as Dean pushes back in without rest, his pleas eventually die out and he lays still, grunting into the bed as his brother uses him like a ragdoll. His body jerks forward with each painful thrust of Dean’s hips.

“You’re so tight, Sam.” Dean cries out as he bottoms out, the gross sound of Dean’s balls slapping against the back of him on a particularly hard thrust. “Good little brat…” Dean jerks his hips forwards again, filling Sam.

For the longest time, the push and pull was painful and bordering on unendurable. So when the feeling started to become enjoyable Sam knew something must have given way, skin most likely. Sam could almost smell the blood leaking from himself over the scent of sex and alcohol. 

Dean angels his hips up and forces his solid shaft to shift in the opposite direction, at first Sam doesn’t understand where the blissful feeling came from but when Dean pulls away and slams his cock back into the young man's prostate a second time Sam realises lazily why his cock has started to perk up again.

Dean is close now, Sam knows because he’s groaned the words over and over and over into Sam’s shoulder. Sam hears his own voice shouting loud for Dean to pull out, not wanting the evidence to soak deep into his rectum. His mouth doesn’t cooperate and the shouting remains in his head.

He feels his brother’s body shutter and still suddenly before Dean jerks his cock inside of Sam and empties himself with a loud, gritted moan. Shortly after Dean collapses on him, still buried inside and strong puffs of air wisp across Sam’s shoulder and over his neck as Dean pants out the remains of his orgasm. They stay like this for four long minutes while Dean comes down from his high. Sam doesn’t speak. He’s not even sure if he’s breathing right now.

When Dean finally pulls away, he stumbles back towards his own bed and Sam still doesn’t speak, he doesn’t even move. Dean finds his pants discarded carelessly on the floor and he clumsily rips one leg through and yanks them up over his hips. The next few things Sam hears is the rattling of car keys, the door closing and the mechanism locking him inside, still tied to the bed with handcuffs he can’t get out of. And this is where he stays, tears streaking his cheeks until the sun starts to light up the hotel room through dusty windows. 

The lock to the hotel room clicks open and Sam blinks the few dry tears away, staying still. The same heavy boots scuff their way inside. But this time, they aren’t as heavy. The keys don’t get lazily discarded to the table behind him. And Dean murmurs about sleeping in the car as he walks to the fridge to get himself a beer to soothe his hangover.

"Must've had a good night- I don't remember a thing." He claims with a slur on the tip of his tongue as he pulls a kitchen chair out and takes a seat. "Sammy? You gettin' up? We gotta be on the road in three hours."

Still Sam doesn't move.

"Sam?" Dean gets to his feet, face contorted into a confused glare as he looks towards Sam's bed and unmoving body. "Sam," He repeats as he steps around the table and closer to the pair of beds. "Hey- Sam? Sam!" Dean says with a little more urgency when he sees the cuffs that are keeping Sam contained. "Jesus- Fuck- Sammy!" 

Two fingers are quick to the side of Sam's neck in search of a pulse and he finds one just as his eyes search Sam's body for bruising. The kids shirt is rolled up over his shoulders and pants are pulled down just past the young hunters knees.

"Sam. Who- Who ever did it. Who ever touched you- we'll find 'em.. I swear…" Deans voice is laced with panic and concern and Sam can only flinch away when Dean reaches for his pins to undo the cuffs. He races to the bathroom without a second glance to get a wet warm cloth. He wrings out the excess water and when he comes back to the main shared room, Sam is gone.


End file.
